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Updated: May 21, 2025
"What is the reason?" "Why, this man Didenhover is a rogue, I suspect, and he manages to spirit away all the profits that should come to uncle Rolf's hands I don't know how. We have lived almost entirely upon the mill for some time." "And has my father been doing nothing all this while?" "Nothing on the farm." "And what of anything else?"
The Norman sat in his usual place at the chief's left hand. It was evident that his thoughts were far away, for his drinking-horn stood forgotten at his elbow and he was humming absently as he worked. His fingers were busy with a long splinter and a tuft of fox-hairs, that he was pulling carefully from the rug on which he sat. Rolf's eyes widened into positive alarm as he watched.
He did not notice that Rolf's eyes were gradually closing, and his bated breath lengthening into long even sighs. He plodded on and on. All at once a thunder of approaching hoof-beats reached him from up the road.
Then the room passed from his vision. He saw in its place Rolf's derisive smile, and heard again his mocking query: "Is it your opinion that Leif Ericsson needs your protection against wild beasts?" Of a sudden he flung back his head and burst into a loud laugh that jarred on the ear like grating steel.
I have just learned why it is that Thorhild no longer speaks to Eric, and why he is in a mood to smash things." "Why?" asked Alwin, impatiently; but he no longer struggled, for he knew it was useless in Rolf's grip. "Because last night Thorhild told Eric that she had become a Christian. Her bowerwoman told Helga, and when I met Helga " "Met her? Where? Is she in the women's-house?"
It should be her part to see that others were happier than she had been. However weary her heart might be, she would dance at every wedding, of fellow-servant or of young mistress. She would cloud nobody's happiness, but would do all she could to make Rolf's memory pleasant to those who had known him, and wished him well.
All agreed to this, even Kettil, so Rolf was sent for and made king of Gothland, which he ruled with skill and valor. One day Rolf and Kettil, who loved each other as brothers should, were talking together, and Kettil said that one thing was wanting to the glory and honor of Rolf's rule, and that was a queen of noble birth and goodly presence. "And whom have you in mind?" asked Rolf.
Rolf's first shot had hit the antler near the base, breaking it, except for the skin on one side, and had stunned the buck. The second shot had broken a hind leg. The scratching places he had made were efforts to regain the use of this limb, and at one of them the deer had fallen and parted the rag of skin by which the antler hung.
There was a flash, a hurried rush, a clutch, a faint squeak, and one of the mice was borne away in the claws of its feathered foe. The survivor scrambled under the hay over Rolf's face and somewhere into hiding. The night passed in many short naps. The bugle sounded at daybreak and the soldiers arose to make breakfast.
Rolf's grip brought Egil to a standstill. The contempt in Helga's words was reflected in his face. He sheathed his sword with a scornful gesture. "You speak truth. I do not know how it was that I thought to do a thing so unworthy of me. I will leave Valbrand to draw the fellow's blood with a stirrup leather." He turned away, and the others followed.
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